Ode to a Peach

This finding a soulmate business, I realize, is going to have an unexpected payoff. I get to find my own soul. I get to find out who I am and even better, who I want to be. Not that I don't like the old me, or rather the current me, but that me always ends up choosing the same variation on a theme. With some exceptions, thy've all have been pretty nice guys, but if it's "true love" I'm after, I better get cracking. Cracking in the sense of beginning, but also as in opening up.

Oddly enough, without my even trying, I think it's already begun.

Yesterday, on my way home from the hair salon, I stopped at J. Crew to check out the sales. The personal shopper there (note: I had never even talked with a personal shopper before) put me in tight, skinny purple cords, a size smaller than I'd have chosen on my own, and a light, peach colored sweater - a color I was absolutely positive until yesterday, that I should never wear.

Peach was the color soft, lovely girls wore. The kind of girls who seemed to float on clouds when they walked, whose voices opened the imagination, who turned men's heads wherever they went.

Not that I haven't had my own rippling affect, but never from a peach-leaning kind of man. I wonder, could something as simple as wearing my new sweater allow a different part of me to emerge, a part who not only attracts different kinds of people, but finds different kinds attractive. I'm going to see my 13-year-old son singing Tosca at the Lyric Opera this afternoon. I'll wear the sweater and find out.